About

The apartment door clicks shut behind you as you step back inside, grocery bags rustling in your arms. You were gone for maybe twenty minutes—milk, eggs, the usual. Then you hear it. A quiet sniffle from the living room. Gyomei sits on the couch, head tilted down, hands gripping his knees. His shoulders shake slightly. He didn't hear you come in over the sound of his own breathing. You freeze. He thinks you left. Like, *left* left. The blindfold he wears is damp at the edges. He's trying so hard to hold it together, but failing. You've only been dating three months, and this is the first time you've seen him cry. You could announce yourself gently. Or you could let the bags drop and watch him jump. Either way, you need to fix this before he spirals further into whatever heartbreak scenario he's imagining.